Power Of You
by BertieTodd
Summary: This really isn't a Gulliver's Travels fic. I needed a category to place my story under, because it isn't on fanfiction yet. This is from Revay, and is the story of Arlimia's discovery of the reasons for Soray ignoring her. M, yaoi. Soray x Claren...


Power Of You

The onrushing swirl of the ballroom threatened to pull her in like a raging maelstrom, sweeping away her good sense and dragging her toward him. He stood alone, the eye of the storm, dark eyes focused to intently on hers. As she stepped through the undulating ruffles of petticoats, and avoided stepping on so many sets of well-polished shoes, she felt her heart pound in time to the steady waltz. She was four feet away from him now, and as he reached out his gloved hands to her, she knew what he would say.

"Arlimia,"

She inhaled a deep breath, then regretted it, after his dark cologne pervaded her senses.

"May I have this dance?"

He didn't wait for an answer; instead, he took one of her hands, placing it on his shoulder. His hand did the same, and she gasped when the black-gloved flesh brushed her bare skin.

Another hand went round her waist, pulling her closer as he took the lead.

"Soray…" she whispered, overcome by his touch, his closeness…him.

"Shhh…" he instructed, sensually putting a finger to her lips. Arlimia closed her blue eyes, long lashed flicking across her pale cheeks. The waltz began to crescendo, and she felt him tilt her, near to the marble floor. Her thin frame bent back in a dip, baring her smooth neck. Soray lowered his perfect lips to her flesh, almost touching. Before the gentle kiss Arlimia so longed for, he broke contact, pulling her upright.

"Soray…what are you…?" she began, but he was already walking away, his black boots clicking briskly on the floor. He disappeared, turning the corner without looking back.

Alone, Arlimia stood in the midst of the dancers, who were mostly locked in romantic embraces. Those who were not, stared at her. Suddenly, the music stopped, and she felt like sobbing on the dance floor. The abandoned girl, attempting to hold her head up, walked out of the celebration, heading in the same direction Soray went.

She discarded her uncomfortable, gold heels as she ran, trying not to get lost in the horribly confusing halls of the mansion. Her feet slid on the waxed floors, skidding as she navigated the labyrinthine corridors. Ahead of her was a spiral staircase, ominous although decorated with carved banisters and plush carpet. The top of the stairs were not visible from the ground, and seemed to go on eternally. She gathered her strength, and began the ascent.

….….…...….Soray…...

He paced the floor of his lavish room, boots scuffing the red-velvet carpet. Soray's mind was consumed by turmoil; the only person he could confide in was the reason for these feelings, and he felt more alone than ever before. She…Arlimia. It was obvious she wanted him-even he could see that. The difficulty was that his heart longed for another. A different name was on his lips in the dead of night. A different heart beat with his own. A different song played in his head, one to which only he knew the words. The door opened a crack.

"Soray?" asked a young man's voice. Into the room stepped Claren, Soray's personal butler. He sighed.

"I'm here."

"I need you to tell me something." his voice was shaky, uncharacteristically so. Normally, Claren's rather high-pitched tone would be full of confidence.

"Um, of course." Soray answered, sitting upon the edge of his four-poster bed. He suddenly became nervous, though he was unsure why.

"Why did you walk out on her? Is it because she's a poor girl, and you're almost a prince? Or…"

"Or what?" he really didn't answer Claren's question. Claren sat beside him, closer than he had ever been.

"Or…is it because she's a she?"

Soray's dark eyes flared with a burst of fury, and his cheeks were instantly stained red with blush.

"I…I'm not…" he stuttered.

"I think you might be, if you thought about it." suggested Claren, placing one hand over Soray's. The aforementioned boy pulled away in disgust.

"The nerve! I could report this to my fath-" his sentence was interrupted by Claren's soft lips, pressing desperately against his protesting mouth. He tried to pull back, but the butler held him captive, one hand wrapped around the back of his head, buried in thick, black hair. Claren began to explore the mouth that, in surprise, had forgotten to close, pushing Soray back against his satin sheets. His knee was positioned awkwardly between Soray's own, putting pressure on an obvious arousal. This made him smirk widely into the kiss, which gave Soray enough room to push him off.

"What the hell was that?" he yelled, angrily.

"It's called a kiss." retorted Claren as he slid his slim hand under the front of Soray's dress-jacket, feeling the warm, pounding chest beneath. The indignant boy slapped his hand away. Claren took the opportunity to slide his own jacket off, throwing the navy-blue garment to the floor. To Soray's shock, Claren wore a tight-fitting, beige corset beneath, which clung to his dancer-figure. The startled Soray forced his eyes to keep from roaming lower, although he did catch an 'accidental' glimpse of the other boy's tight leggings. He refrained from licking his suddenly dry lips.

"How did you know?" he whispered after a second, "about me, I mean."

Claren grinned again, untying Soray's cravat with deft fingers as he spoke.

"It's obvious, you know? I caught you staring. What I can't figure out is why you tried so hard to hide it." His hands had moved to the buttons on the other's jacket, plucking them open one at a time.

"I can't let my father know. He'd kill me. Besides, I can't marry a 'silent, pretty little thing' like he needs me to, in order to give me the family fortune. I'm only his heir if I marry a girl he approves of. A girl, Claren." He sighed.

"I didn't say I wanted to marry you, Soray. However, you could do me…a favor." He had moved his exploring fingers to the buttons of the other boy's pants, undoing them with practiced grace. Soray flinched, finding the pants already far too tight. He had barely noticed that Claren had already stripped him of his top layers, and the air suddenly felt cold.

"Claren…" he begged, delicious pink mouth open slightly, inviting said boy back in. Tongues clashed in battle, neither one wanting to be submissive. At this point, Soray was on his back, allowing Claren to force him lower, as the thinner boy straddled his hips. He could feel both of their desire, obvious through thin pants. Claren was quick to pull down his own, then went to work on Soray's, until all that separated them were boxers. Soray groaned loudly, wanting, no, needing him. He hooked his fingers into the hem of his butler's underpants, dragging them down in a swift motion. Claren whimpered, which only aroused his soon-to-be-lover further.

He was almost instantly attacked by Soray's hot mouth around his need; it was almost more satisfying to see the object of his desire act so animalistic for him than to feel the sensations his lower-body was experiencing. Almost. He cried out when Soray's tongue flicked over the moist tip, teasing him. Teeth were dragged across the shaft, biting and nipping a bit roughly. All of these ministrations were too much for Claren, who came without warning into Soray's eager mouth. The other boy willingly swallowed every drop.

He returned to face-level with the panting boy, pressing a hungry kiss to his lips. Claren sighed, knowing it was his own flavor upon his lover's lips. Soray replaced his lips with two fingers, which-once Claren realized the plan-were quickly wetted. A hand traveled the long, smooth path of Claren's gorgeous, muscular dancer-legs; Soray had to notice that they had been shaved. It was likely Claren had planned that far ahead. His hand stopped at Claren's entrance, teasing the flesh with one finger. He asked permission with his eyes. Claren nodded, closing his eyes.

"Don't." Soray half-asked, half-commanded. "I want to see you feel it." Claren did as told, green eyes flickering open as Soray's long finger entered him. He moaned softly, as the other boy began to stretch him lightly, before adding a second finger. This time, Claren bit his lip, drawing a bit of blood. Soray licked and sucked his bottom lip clean, tasting the tangy, metallic flavor of blood. He removed his fingers, marveling at the warmth and tightness of Claren's body. He almost came thinking about what it would feel like when it wasn't his fingers.

"Now?" he begged, but Claren had other ideas.

"Let's move. Against that wall."

Soray practically ran to the wall, pushing Claren up against it. The thin butler wrapped his legs around his lover's waist.

"Now."

His vision blurred with tears when Soray pushed in, rather roughly, he had to admit.

"You okay?" he somehow managed to ask. The sensations were overwhelming, breathtaking, awe-inspiring.

"Fine…just…move!" he demanded. Soray was only too happy to oblige. He started up a rhythm, pulling out almost completely before shoving back in, watching in sadistic pleasure as Claren's spindly body convulsed with each thrust. Claren's fingernails were digging into the pale expanse of Soray's muscular back, sharp, but not drawing blood. Suddenly, Soray reached some place inside his lover that caused his back to arch and his breathing to stop.

"Again…Soray…please!"

He tilted his body at a better angle, intending to hit the same spot with every thrust. It seemed to work, for Claren was quickly writhing and begging for release. Just then, the door burst open.

…..…...Arlimia…..…...

She had finally made it to the landing of the stairs, and she stopped a second to catch her breath. Arlimia hadn't the foggiest idea where his room might be. It was then that she heard the faintest cry of his name, yelled from the farthest room on the left side of the hall. She followed her ears to his door, curiously listening to the sounds she had only heard about. So that was why he couldn't kiss her; he had another woman! Furiously, she flung the door open, and her heart stopped.

The first thing she saw was the nearly-white flesh of Soray's back; she wasn't sure how she knew it was his, but she knew. Her eyes, though they wanted to look away in anger and embarrassment, settled on the shaggy, unmistakable ponytail of the butler's hair.

"Soray? Claren?" she wondered aloud, causing the two to stop. Soray turned around quickly, not realizing he was still in a state of undress.

"You…you should leave." he whispered, terrified that she would tell someone. "Please." He didn't know what else to say.

"I…yeah. I should." she managed, backing out of the room as fast as humanly possible. She shut the door with a slam behind her, and she fell against it. Her tears fell rapidly, and she did nothing to stop them. How could he do that to her? Judging by the sounds emanating from the room, they had returned to their…activities, without further ado. It killed her. She was supposed to be his. Arlimia, heartbroken though she was, refused to tell anyone, especially his father. She knew it would be the perfect revenge, yet despite what she witnessed, she still cared too much for him to be so cruel. She would just have to find a better means of torture.

….…...Soray….…...

When all was said and done, and both boys had once again dressed, only _then_ did Soray feel guilty.

"We shouldn't have, you know, done it." he blandly sighed.

"What? You regret it?"

"Oh, no! I didn't mean that…I…I love you." he explained, shocking both of them by the confession.

"Do you really?" Claren wondered.

"Absolutely." he decided.

"I, well, I love you, too." he shyly replied, before kissing his newfound-love and curling up beside him on the luxurious bed.

"Alright…I can't pretend." Soray laughed, a rare sound for the usually-angst teen, "I'm glad we did."


End file.
